


formality

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [13]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, M/M, look this is naktom wedding. straight up., me: this is naktom wedding me: still finds a way to talk abt dongsungs inner angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving forward, things are brighter.<br/>(Patching holes and sewing wounds.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	formality

**Author's Note:**

> Super Married™
> 
> i dont have much to say abt this. i cried while writing this.  
> anyway. thank u for reading if youve reached this point this is a long ass series and i didnt realize it until ao3 started putting numbers on it and i was like wAIT, HOLD ON--  
> kudos + comments are, as always, appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!

“Darling. Wake up.”

Sanggyun doesn’t bother opening his eyes, instead reaching out until his hands find Yoonchul’s shoulders and shoving him away with as much force as his half-asleep self can muster.

In return, Yoonchul nuzzles his face into Sanggyun’s neck, kissing right underneath his ear. “I’m sorry for taking so long, I wanted to be back before you fell asleep,” Yoonchul whispers, and Sanggyun grunts in response. “I got you something.”

That gets Sanggyun’s attention; he loves it when Yoonchul brings him things, especially if he’s been out of town (or country) for a while. “What is it?” Sanggyun mumbles, raising a hand to rub his eyes, trying to rid them of sleep.

“You gotta sit up,” Yoonchul says, sitting up himself. Sanggyun frowns at the loss of warmth, opening his eyes just to glare at Yoonchul. “Come on, dear.”

Sanggyun complies, sitting up and stretching, lifting his arms high above his head and keeping them there for a few beats before dropping them to his lap. “Okay, look, I’m up. What is it, show me.”

Yoonchul takes Sanggyun’s hands in his, and Sanggyun lets his eyes fall shut until he feels something cold on his finger.

“It’s- it’s garnet,” Yoonchul explains shyly, looking away as Sanggyun brings his hand to his face. “I- the lady told me that garnets were cheaper, but still red, and I just wanted to get red for us…”

There’s a ring on Sanggyun’s finger, with a silver band and several small, precisely cut, dark red stones set into it.

It sinks in.

“Holy shit!” Sanggyun yells, flinging himself off the couch and into Yoonchul’s arms. Yoonchul catches him easily, laughing close to his ear. “Holy shit, Yoonchul, show me yours!!”

Yoonchul complies, slipping his own onto his hand. Sanggyun pulls away just long enough to look at it, seeing that it’s a near copy of Sanggyun’s, then cuddles himself close to Yoonchul once again, pressing his face into Yoonchul’s shoulder.

“Are you crying?” Yoonchul asks, and Sanggyun shakes his head even though yes, he definitely is. “Why are you crying?”

“Why are y- are you kidding me?” Sanggyun asks, sitting up and wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’m crying because this is real, look! We’re really married, we’re super married.”

Yoonchul laughs, cupping Sanggyun’s face in his hands and bumping their foreheads together. “Yes, definitely super married. Like, incredibly married.”

Sanggyun can see tears in Yoonchul’s eyes from the close proximity and complains that he’s the only one allowed to cry. Yoonchul hushes him with several well placed kisses.

 

“Super married.”

“Yes.”

Jiho leans over the table, steepling his fingers. “Sanggyun.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t just say shit like, ‘super married’. It’s lame.”

“Look, Jiho,” Sanggyun says, mimicking Jiho’s posture. “I’m the first person in this whole sect to get married. Sangdo and Hyosang don’t count, they’re not real married. I’m real married. I’m fucking super married.”

Jiho starts to laugh, then quiets himself, staring off to the side. “Shit. You’re right. I need to marry Hojoon as soon as possible.”

“It’s just a formality.” Sanggyun says, and Jiho looks at him indignantly. “What?”

“If it was just a formality, why did you come over here for the sole reason of bragging about your super marriage?”

“Look, Jiho, just- shut your fucking mouth.”

 

“Did you really say ‘super married’-”

“I don’t know why this is such a big deal!” Sanggyun yells, throwing his hands up comically, and Dongsung snorts. “Yes, we’re super married! Super fucking married! Do you have a problem, Dongsung?!”

“Uh, yes, actually, are you having a wedding?” Dongsung asks, watching as Sanggyun slowly shrinks back to his regular posture, face scrunched in thought.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? There’s no need for one, really… we’re just super married.”

“You guys are having a wedding.” Dongsung says firmly. “We don’t even need anything fancy, just… do it out front! Buy a tablecloth to use as an aisle and set up like, ten chairs, we don’t need any more.”

Sanggyun stands up abruptly, pointing at Dongsung. “You’re a fucking genius, I knew there was a reason we let you move in.”

Dongsung laughs as Sanggyun exits the room, flopping back on his bed. Super married. Right.

 

“Well,” Dongsung says, staring at the red runner at his feet, “the tablecloth isn’t long enough.”

“It’s fine,” Sanggyun says firmly, straightening his coat lapels. “It’s fine.”

“Where did you get that coat?” Dongsung asks conversationally, and Sanggyun makes a grand sweeping gesture with his arm, pressing a hand to his chest.

“My darling Yoonchul gave it to me a couple months after we first met! It is but a small token of his love-” Sanggyun is silenced by, at first, one well placed rain drop to the nose. Then, another.

Then more.

“Well FUCK,” Sanggyun yells, pulling the back of his coat up so it will protect his hair. “Get the chairs, everyone else is inside anyway.”

Dongsung complies, easily carrying the chairs inside in one go and setting them near the entrance in order to keep from dripping water everywhere.

“I hate to ruin the traditionality of marriage,” Sanggyun shouts, prompting those towards the back of the house to come to the living room, “but it’s raining like a motherfucker out there and I want to get married right now so fuck it!”

Jiho opens his mouth to protest, but Sanggyun points at him accusingly. “Shut up before you ruin my wedding day,” Sanggyun says, and Jiho snorts but does shut up.

“Sanggyun,” Yoonchul says once he’s entered the room, prompting everyone to turn their attention to him, “are you turning into Bridezilla in here?”

“Fuck you,” Sanggyun laughs, extending his arms as he steps towards Yoonchul. Yoonchul envelops him in a hug and then kisses him, garnering a collective “ewww” from the room (sans Sangdo, who is snapping photos because “this is my child and he’s getting married”).

Dongsung surveys the room, taking in the various people. These, besides Taeyang, who sits awkwardly beside Byungjoo on the couch, are all part of a sect, the same sect. They’re friends and cohorts and lovers. It’s easier to ignore the fact that he doesn’t belong when it’s just with Yoonchul and Sanggyun, because then he and Taeyang can crack jokes about being third wheels. But when it’s all of them together, it’s difficult to overlook the fact that Dongsung just isn’t one of them.

He feels the need to leave, but doesn’t want to cause a fuss. So he remains.

 

Dongsung opens his eyes when he feels someone sit down on the side of his bed, seeing that it’s Sanggyun and smiling. “Yes?”

“Dongsung, you’re like four years older than me, but,” Sanggyun takes a deep breath, expression serious. “You are now my son.”

“… What?”

“I am officially adopting you because you are sad and I know you’re sad and I’d venture a guess it’s because you feel like some kind of outsider. So,” Sanggyun stops to smile, patting Dongsung’s knee. “The best and most non-serious way to do it in my eyes was like, let’s just be his dad.”

Dongsung laughs, sitting up. “I’m not calling you Dad.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to. Like the marriage, it’s a formality.” Sanggyun nods sagely, as if believing himself to be very wise. “So stop being weird. We don’t blame you for anything. And I’m sure they don’t, either. You’re fine.”

Dongsung makes a noise of acknowledgement, so Sanggyun smiles and stands, reaching over to ruffle Dongsung’s hair as he’s become accustomed to doing. Once Sanggyun leaves the room, Dongsung’s left staring at the far wall, at the patterns in the wallpaper, and feeling something warm settle in his chest.

 _Acceptance_.


End file.
